Outriders

by Ian Blackport

  “Staring out the damn window is the only thing I can do,” Taylor answered. “Do you honestly need another pair of hands to see if your paint is still wet?”

  “Someone’s becoming cranky the longer he’s cooped up in this hotel room.”

  “I’ve been sleeping on the damn floor squeezed between two beds. How am I supposed to feel?”

  “Could’ve pulled rank and forced Rinko off one bed or me off the chair.”

  “I’m a captain, not an asshole.”

  “I appreciate it,” Rinko declared from behind her cluttered desk. “I’ll donate one of my pillows to you for tonight in thanks.”

  Taylor returned to his window until the entry to their room squealed open and Harun wandered inside with Tessa close behind.

  “You two certainly took your sweet time,” Taylor said.

  “You may not have noticed,” Tessa rebuked, “but we’re on a planet with heavy security and surveillance. The situation calls for caution if you weren’t aware.”

  “Snarky for a change. How unlike you. Given how long you dawdled for, does this mean we have weapons?”

  Harun tossed his jacket over a chair and rolled the sleeves on his shirt. “Still no on that front. We don’t have contacts here, and can’t risk communicating with black market dealers unless we earn an introduction. Which requires more time than we have available.”

  “Looks like we’re pulling this off unarmed. Always makes me twitchy with nerves to not have a firearm strapped to my belt.”

  “You aren’t the only one,” admitted Tessa.

  “Do we at least have official transport?” Taylor questioned. “Otherwise you seem to have wasted your entire afternoon.”

  “We used our untraceable account to rent a foul, ungainly truck decorated with dents. Looks similar to what folks in the repair industry shuttle themselves around in. Plus it’s roomy.”

  “More than can be said for our hotel room at least.”

  Harun crossed the chamber and waggled a finger at the coveralls. “We’re certain these are the proper colors?”

  “Close as we could find during our timetable,” answered Reyes. “I wouldn’t worry about any deviations in the shade though.”

  “Why not?”

  “This is a fairly generic color for technicians and other personnel in the industry. No one will think twice if someone’s uniform is off a little. Should pass all but the most intense scrutiny.”

  “Care to provide more reassurance than your own assumptions?”

  “Not really.”

  Tessa wandered around the coveralls and ran one finger down the yellow and red logo. “You did a damn fine job with the stencils. Only problem is these uniforms look pristine. We’ll raise more than a few suspicious eyebrows if everyone wanders into the hotel wearing brand new clothes.”

  “So little faith you have,” Reyes answered. “We’ve got you covered.”

  He yanked the uniforms from their hangars and tossed each one into a crumpled heap on the floor. Cracking his knuckles and winking at Kyla, they stomped across the fabric and walked in circles while dragging their feet. Dust and scuff marks appeared on the clothes alongside wrinkles.

  “Give us an hour and you’ll have well-worn outfits,” announced Reyes. “We might even dribble leftover paint or grease on a couple sleeves. Maybe use the fabric to clean our window or bathtub.”

  Harun nodded in an approving manner. “Inelegant, but a clever enough solution.”

  “If you’re interested in helping we could use another pair of boots.”

  “A tempting offer, but we have technical aspects to discuss. Kaneshiro?”

  Rinko glanced up from a table across the room, its surface scattered with computer equipment, modified UpLinks, keycards and discarded coffee cups. She swept unkempt hair from her eyes and held up three fingers on one hand. “Okay, I’ve barely slept in the last two days, but I’m confident with the results. These specifications should function the way we want. Assuming all those studies I’ve read were wrong and a sleep-deprived brain can actually perform above expectations for extended periods under duress. I’ve always questioned the validity of that research to be honest, and now I get to prove them wrong.”

  “Even mediocre results from someone with your talents should be enough,” said Taylor.

  “Kind of you to say, Captain. But you’ll feel different if I’ve bungled even one of a hundred different aspects while programing these codes.”

  Harun stepped beside the table, brushed items aside and placed his hands on the empty spots. “Did you manage to infiltrate the hotel earlier today while we were elsewhere?”

  “Went smoothly enough,” Rinko replied. “I finagled my way into the Information Technology Hub and slipped a benign virus in their network. The delightful program is waiting for my signal to wreak a terrible vengeance on those who have wronged me.”

  “Can you possibly order her to rest, Captain?” questioned Harun. “She’s oddly belligerent when tired.”

  “She stops listening to directions by this point usually.”

  The major sighed and glanced at Rinko. “Without delving into hyperbole or vague threats, what can your program actually do?”

  “I didn’t want to run the risk a simple malware scan might discover the virus, not to mention my time to write the code was limited, so the functions are minimal. I can deactivate and reboot certain minor systems throughout the hotel, but not critical ones. I can’t unlock doors, disable cameras or trigger evacuations, for instance. Fire suppression, elevators, intersystem communications, monitoring local keystrokes and commands, food processors are all within my considerable power though. And each one can be triggered remotely.”

  “What about outgoing transmissions from the hotel?”

  She offered a lopsided smirk. “Mine to intercept.”

  “Nice work.” Harun reached across the table and retrieved a keycard imprinted with an image of his face and false identification. “These are well done.”

  “Praise is appreciated. But remember, these cards are purely cosmetic. There’s no data on them at all.” Rinko mimicked tapping her eye and pointed at Tessa. “We need the magical, all-seeing eyeball to subvert their scanners.”

  “Upload your program to my AugIris and I’ll make certain the data is transferred,” Tessa replied.

  “There’ll be no delay or feedback loop? It’s okay to admit you and that special cornea aren’t infallible.”

  “Focus on quality controlling your program and I’ll worry about my ocular implant.”

  “Play nice, children,” Taylor said. He grabbed his own keycard and surveyed the photo of himself gracing its surface. Such a dissatisfying picture, making him appear boorish, hostile and unapproachable, while entirely failing to capture his overabundant charm. The fake name Frank Jenkins did little to improve the perception. “By my reckoning we have everything in place for some crime and derring-do. All we need is opportunity.”

  Rinko rubbed her forehead and grumbled. “Oh, I knew I was forgetting something. Aside from sleep obviously. I found our window for delinquency. Turns out acquiring this little tidbit was difficult, but the information is reliable and I’m tenacious when faced with a maddening challenge.”

  “You know a definite time when Winston Vanderlin will be elsewhere?”

  “Dinner date tomorrow night with representatives from the Interstellar Commerce and Revenue Bureau. Might mean nothing more than pleasantries, or Triaxus could be looking to register and charter additional freighters and transports for a push into new systems.”

  “All the more reason we need to finish this,” Harun declared.

  Taylor tossed his card back onto the table. “Agreed. We’ll rest and finalize our preparations tonight and in the morning. Tomorrow evening we break into the Hanging Gardens Villa.”

  Rinko raised a tentative hand as though in a classroom. “Can we order take-out for dinner? I might’ve forgotten to eat lunch.”

  “Should I be worried our ent
ire plan hinges on the stability of your mind at a time when you aren’t remembering basic necessities?” inquired Tessa.

  “Preposterous. My mind’s as sharp as ever. Take your pessimism and leave.”

  “I wanted to spare your feelings by not bringing this to anyone’s attention, but your shirt is both inside out and backwards.”

  Rinko frowned and casually glanced down at her clothing without speaking.

  “Even though I never expected to say this to a grown adult, go to bed,” Taylor instructed. “We’ll wake you when the food arrives. Everyone else, get ready for tomorrow.”

  *

  Taylor scratched his neck and tugged on the chafing material wrapped around his throat. This style of uniform was designed to be loose and airy, though a limited quantity available in his size meant Taylor wore coveralls made for a skinnier man. Or a reed with arms and legs, since Taylor liked to consider himself slender already.

  He shifted his posture and uncrossed his legs, only to discover the change did nothing to relieve the discomfort in his buttocks and thighs, which had fallen asleep at least twenty minutes ago. Lounging in the back of their truck alongside Rinko was moderately spacious, though lacked the room for him to stand and wander around.

  “Time?” questioned Tessa from the front passenger seat.

  “It’s been long enough since Vanderlin left his penthouse suite,” responded Harun. “Check in with the other team, Kaneshiro.”

  Rinko opened a channel on their secure network and waited for the encrypted connection to be established. “You there, Kyla?”

  “I hear you.”

  “Give me the good news.”

  “Vanderlin is being taken to his private table as we speak, where the InCom folks are already waiting. We’re clear to begin.”

  “Copy that. Rejoin Reyes in the airspeeder and fly in a holding pattern near our location. Maintain comm silence unless you hear from me.”

  “Understood. Kyla out.”

  Rinko swiveled on her stool and glanced at Taylor. “Waiting on your word, Captain.”

  Taylor let his gaze wander between Harun and Tessa, who each nodded their readiness. “Let’s go commit half a dozen planetary felonies. Make it happen.”

  Hunched over her computer, Rinko grinned and let her fingers dance across the holographic screens. “Hotel security routines bypassed. Activating my viral surprise and scrambling their guest registry and profile database. Oh no, the hotel no longer has any information on their clientele. Names, preferences, payment accounts have mysteriously disappeared. What terrible timing for such misfortune to befall them. Now all I need is one staff member to try accessing a file…ah, they’ve noticed the hiccup and are investigating. I’m detecting diagnostic scans, but they’re basic and unfocused. We aren’t dealing with tech expertise.”

  “What’ll they believe happened when all the guest data goes missing?”

  “Hopefully they’ll be afraid the information was compromised and stolen by hackers, which means they’ll reach out to their preferred telecommunications company to either assess the damage or recover lost data. We’ll give them a few minutes to bury their noses in various systems and hopelessly try fixing the error before realizing the task is beyond their ability.”

  Rinko stretched her neck and hummed a soft melody while waiting, until a gentle beep sounded. “They’re contacting GenuTech. Rerouting all outgoing communications from the hotel to my terminal and activating facial manipulation software. Going live.”

  She cleared her throat and opened the video transmission. A diffused web of orange light projected from Rinko’s computer onto her face, digitally modifying her features and constructing a fictitious appearance on the receiving end. To anyone watching the communication from within the hotel, Rinko was a different person altogether, provided she remain almost unnaturally still to avoid distortion blips or lag. “GenuTech Services and Communications. This is Samantha speaking. How may I help you today?”

  “I’m calling from the Hanging Gardens Villa,” announced a smooth, cultured male voice. “We’re experiencing severe file loss in our databases and need our archives restored immediately.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you recently installed new software or suffered malware attacks?”

  “No, the issue started without warning and we can’t wait until tomorrow for a resolution. Someone needs to resolve this tonight.”

  “As it happens, we have a team near your location finishing another call. I’ll mark your problem as a priority. They can be at the Hanging Gardens within approximately half an hour.”

  “We’ll be ready for their arrival. Thank you for the prompt assistance.”

  “Our pleasure. Is there anything else I can assist you with today?”

  “That’ll be all.”

  “Then have a good night, sir.”

  “You too.”

  Rinko disconnected and massaged her jaw. “It feels weird speaking without moving a damn muscle. Unnatural, is what it is.”

  Harun turned partway around from the driver’s seat. “One final equipment check before we leave.”

  Each person verified everything was in its rightful place and gave an affirmative thumbs up. Harun shifted and brought the truck’s antigravity field online, steering into a skylane and meandering around Alishan in a circuitous route toward the hotel. Taylor reclined in the back cabin with his legs crossed and hands resting behind his head for their short drive. Eventually Harun slowed and brought the vehicle toward a parking facility adjacent to the Hanging Gardens Villa.

  Taylor hopped out the back with an equipment satchel slung over one shoulder and closed the rear doors behind Rinko. Though she was unquestionably the youngest person here, Rinko would play the role of team supervisor during their visit. No one else could appear technically proficient or carry a conversation laced with computer jargon in a convincing manner. Any hotel employee with even a modicum of knowledge would see through the charade if Taylor or the Elathan operatives took charge.

  Rinko gave Taylor a confident wink and strode to the Hanging Gardens Villa with the others in a casual flanking position. She entered through the front lobby and received a wave brimming with relief from the concierge. The man straightened his gold-buttoned jacket and waited for them to approach the desk.

  “Thank you for arriving promptly,” he said.

  Rinko rested her forearm on the counter and smiled. “Our pleasure. We were told your database is suffering glitches?”

  “All our client registries are missing, including finances and payment information. I don’t need to tell you how many sensitive files that includes. If the data is leaked on InCore…”

  “One concern at a time,” Rinko replied. “You aren’t able to access the database at all?”

  “Nothing related to our customers. The system claims no files are present.”

  “What about archives or a redundant server?”

  “We can’t access our backup network. Almost as if it no longer exists.”

  “Mind if I have a look at your terminal?”

  “By all means.” He stepped aside and let Rinko wander around the counter. “We want this issue resolved without delay.”

  She cracked her knuckles, producing a subtle look of distaste on the concierge’s face, and dived into the terminal with swift keystrokes. “I see your problems. The database is working fine, and there isn’t an issue with any command prompts. The files in question are simply missing, yet there’s no record of a transfer or deletion. Curious.”

  “Can you deal with this?”

  “Shouldn’t be too difficult, but I can’t perform the necessary maintenance from here. I’ll have to connect with your primary mainframe directly. Though before I start, does this hotel have a Wide-field Quantum Transceiver to increase processing power? They’re usually positioned on the roof among satellites and other communication arrays.”

  “Yes, I believe we do.”

  “I’d prefer to investigate that first. Thou
gh it’s rare, they’ve been known to interfere with other systems if errors occur during automated software updates, even to the point of eliminating files without prompting.”

  “I’d never heard that was a possibility,” the concierge remarked.

  “Like I said, rare. The good news is we might be able to fix your trouble from there.”

  “If you feel the effort is worthwhile. Though I’ll need to clear your identification and authorize the entry first.”

  Rinko fished her identifying keycard from a pocket and slipped it to the concierge for scanning. “Of course.”

  The others retrieved their keycards as Tessa leaned closer to the console. Taylor noticed the briefest glint of aquamarine flash across her right iris like a lattice of circuits. The concierge held Rinko’s card to his scanner and frowned when nothing happened.

  “The machine isn’t recognizing your identification. It isn’t even giving me an error message. The scanner isn’t responding at all.”

  Nervous apprehension touched Rinko’s features as she flicked her gaze toward Tessa, though recovered well enough and appeared unconcerned. “Old card. It’s given me problems before tonight. I’m probably due for a replacement in the coming months. Try scanning again and I’m confident it’ll work fine.”

  Taylor scratched his cheek in a nonchalant manner and watched Tessa while her AugIris flared again. Thankfully the concierge buried himself in his task and failed to perceive the subtle glow suffusing her eye. Finally the scanner acknowledged Rinko’s keycard and information appeared on the main terminal.

  The concierge consulted his screen and returned her card. “My apologies, Ms. Sasaki.”

  “Nothing to worry about.”

  Taylor and the two operatives passed their keycards over and received positive scans. Whatever software Tessa uploaded to the hotel functioned as Rinko intended, which alleviated more than a little tension pounding in Taylor’s chest.

  “Your identification has been approved,” announced the concierge, “and a temporary override authorization was installed on your cards. They’ll unlock doors leading to maintenance facilities. Are you familiar with the layout of our building?”